


Dark Poetry

by Dusty_Forgotten



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 3
Genre: F/F, First Kiss, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-23
Updated: 2015-06-23
Packaged: 2018-04-05 17:49:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4189230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dusty_Forgotten/pseuds/Dusty_Forgotten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So they're like, dating now, right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dark Poetry

“Red and Kimba won’t even talk to me, just because I dated Flash and Pappy. I mean, maybe that thing with Timebomb was wrong, but whatever. I don’t need them telling me what to do, anyway.”

Erin blinks slowly. “Right?”

“I know! Everyone around here’s boring. And happy.”

“Yep,” the Lone Wanderer drawls, “Fuck ‘em.”

“I know, right? You’re like the only person who gets me.”

“Uh-huh.”

“You’re not, uh, seeing anyone, are you?”

She should probably be paying some attention to what the chick’s saying, but it’s not often you see lipstick, and 101’s stuck thinking about things she could do with those lips. “Yep.”

“Oh, um, really? Who? I mean, I don’t care, but, you know, I’ve gotta have a name to go with the hex doll.”

Erin exhales as she stands, and glances at her Pip-Boy for the time. “You wanna go stargaze?”

“Really? I mean, like. Yeah, okay.”

She holds the door for Bittercup, and leads the way.

“Hey, w-where are you going?” Dusty jumps as they reach the bridge.

“It’s cool, she’s with me.” Erin retorts, looking at her Pip-Boy.

“O-okay. But be careful!”

“Yep.”

Bittercup doesn’t stay more than a step behind Erin, and keeps her pipe in both her hands. “Aren’t there, like, supermutants out here?”

“Yeah, but I have an sniper rifle, and a belt full o’ frag grenades.”

“Yeah, that works. Hey, where are we going?”

“Cemetery.”

“Really? Like, dead bodies, and tombstones, and stuff?”

“Yep.”

“That’s so cool! Like my heart, you know, ‘cause it’s cold.”

“Uh-huh.”

Erin stops her in a couple minutes, pulls the rifle from over her shoulder, and stares down the scope. “Looks like we’re clear.”

“That’s a really big gun.”

“Uh-huh.”

“You could kill, like, a lot of stuff with that.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Are you listening?”

“Yep.”

“Oh, okay.”

The tombstones are actually super boring. There’s not even anything written on them. Bittercup turns to the Wanderer, leaned up against one of them. “I stole a lighter from Red’s clinic. Well, the trash behind her clinic, but it still works. Sometimes. We could, like, set the church on fire.”

Erin turns her eyes from the sky to the other girl. “I’ve got a better idea.”

They head into the church. Erin pulls the podium front the busted out wall towards the back. “Climb up.”

“Really?”

“Really.” She holds the podium steady.

Bittercup uses the shelves inside like a ladder, and crouches on the slanted top. “Now what?”

“Climb up on that ledge.”

She looks up; there’s a bunch of wooden planks sticking out, looks like they used to be a floor. “Rea-?” she starts, but Erin’s face says she’s getting up there with or without Bittercup. “Okaaay...” She struggles to pull herself up to shoulder height, until Erin puts a hand under her foot and pushes up. It’s a solid boost, and once Bittercup’s up, the Wanderer hoists herself up easily. They sit with feet dangling, and they can see stars through the shattered roof.

“This is so pretty. Like, in a totally depressing way. Just think about how many people died here. I bet it’s a lot.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I bet there’s a bunch of ghosts watching up right now. At least five. That’s a lot, for ghosts.”

“Uh-huh. You wanna makeout?”

Bittercup’s eyes snap to the other girls, whose own gaze stays on the sky. “Like, kiss and stuff?”

Erin doesn’t look nearly as nervous as Bittercup was hoping. “That’s what it means, yeah.”

“Like... Now?”

“Well, we’re alone in a secluded, romantic venue under the moonlight. Did you have a better time in mind?”

Bittercup looks off, twirling her hair around one of her fingers. Erin goes quietly back to stargazing, when Bittercup leans over and pecks her on the cheek. The Lone Wanderer’s eyebrows go up, and she turns to Bittercup. “Yes?”

“There.”

“What about it?”

“We made out.”

101 smiles at that, and leans towards her. “I was thinkin’ a little more like this...”

Erin closes her lips around one of Bittercup’s, and sucks lightly, one hand on the other’s cheek. Bittercup freezes, and the Lone Wanderer pulls away. There’s lipstick smudged on her mouth, white powder on the tip of her nose, and a kiss mark on her cheek. She stares up at the sky. Dumbly, Bittercup does the same.

“If we jumped from here, we could like, commit suicide together.”

“Nah, you’d just break your leg.”

“Oh.”


End file.
